Fireworks
by Jade Scribbler
Summary: Atalanta Potter is like a bottlerocket, soaring into the sky in a burst of fire, light, and sound in whatever direction the wind will take her. And so, like the bottlerocket, she dazzles onlookers as she passes, despite existing against the rules, leaving a burning after-image. But will she, like the bottlerocket, crash and burn? Or will she soar onward under her own power? FemHP


A/N:

Hello, everybody. This fic is the revision of my previous story, Daughter of Lightning: Tale of the Defender. All I can say is that I hope this version far surpasses the old one and you all enjoy.

Fireworks

Chapter One: Sparks Ignited

"Hermione, will you shut up already?" Atalanta Potter, better known as Lana, groaned. She loved her friend similar to how she figured she would love a sister and knew that she had just gotten out of the hospital wing but really. Sometimes, in Lana's opinion, she was a bit much. She knew how much Lana absolutely detested reading. But to be fair, she didn't know exactly why. She sometimes suspected that it didn't come as easily to Lana as it did to others, her own mother was much the same way, but she didn't know for sure.

"We don't even have exams this year." Lana continued desperately.

"Atalanta, please. I've been petrified for MONTHS! Oh, I just know that I've missed loads." she fretted. She hated feeling behind; it was a horrible sensation for her. Lana, on the other hand, thought she was worrying too much. Hermione Granger was practically a genius.

"You're brilliant, Mione. You don't need to prove that to us. Come on, it's a nice day outside." red-haired Ronald Weasley, the third of the trio, tempted her.

"That's sweet of you, Ron, but no. Look, I'm going to catch up with everybody else and you're going to help me. I got all these books from the library and we can all read some. Then, we can meet with each other and summarize. It'll be fun!" said Hermione with enthusiasm.

"MmM." Ron and Lana hummed, unconvinced.

"You guys really need to put forth a bit more effort in your studies. Come on. Do it for me?" Hermione begged. Lana and Ron sighed resignedly. Their friendship was the sort where two of them would do something, no matter how reluctantly, if it'd make the third one happy.

"Okay." Ron sighed.

"For a little while." Lana caved with more reluctance. A short hour later, Lana found herself cursing under her breath. Her eyes burned with the effort of focusing on the page; the tiny letters levitated off it and danced mockingly in her view, making her head spin unpleasantly.

"Can we stop now?" she whined, uncaring of her tone.

"It's barely been an hour, Atalanta." Hermione sighed huffily. Lana scowled, Hermione only used her full name when she wanted something from her or, in this case, was exasperated with her.

"But I hate reading." she said grumpily.

"Why do you hate reading so much? It's not that hard, you know." Hermione stated matter-of-factly. Immediately, the bushy-haired brunet knew that she had let her mouth speak before her mind could think. Her mother, who had always been the most calm, level-headed member of the Granger household, had always told her to be mindful of the differences of others, that everyone had their own strengths and weaknesses. Lana's expression became thunderous as she threw the heavy book Hermione had given her onto the table.

Hermione's belief that everything came as easily to everybody else as it did to her had always gotten on Lana's nerves. She hated feeling incompetent. Sensing a fight, Ron backed up like any smart guy would do and let the girls bicker without his input.

"Sure," Lana drew the word out mockingly, channeling her embarrassment at her lack of reading prowess in a way she knew in the back of her mind she shouldn't have. "of course it's not hard for you. You've just got to read any little thing you get your hands on, haven't you? And you expect everyone who bothers befriending you to share in your overpowering enthusiasm. Don't you? Not everybody thinks books are the staples to the universe, Hermione. Not everybody relishes in the stink of some mildewy old bunch of paper, you know."

"But I…" Hermione said softly, on the verge of tears. Her parents had warned her not to let her world be ruled by books or they would take over. Her mother's favorite saying was that life, not books, gifted wisdom. But since they'd been her only companions until Ron and Lana it'd been hard to break the habit. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin her friendship with the smaller girl across from her.

Meanwhile, seeing the teary brown eyes of her only female best friend, Lana deflated immediately. She knew she shouldn't have bitten Hermione's head off like that. But after all the heckling she'd gotten for her inability to read at an appropriate level for her age, she couldn't help but get defensive even with people who a part of her knew wouldn't care.

"Look. I'm sorry for being so mean. But I'm just saying that not everyone takes to reading like you do." Lana said softly, giving her a quick hug.

"Please tell us, Lana. How is reading so hard for you? We won't care, we're your friends, Hermione asked quietly. She had some ideas, thanks to her mother, but nothing concrete. Lana sighed and motioned Ron to join in the conversation again.

"Fine, I'll tell you. It's just, well, it's erm" Lana trailed off, shuffling awkwardly in her chair.

""What. It's not like you can't read or something." Ron said, not noticing the small girl's expression tighten for a split second. Being wizard raised, the idea of a learning disability was an alien one to him. He had no idea the old pain he had stirred up in Lana by that one comment. Hiding her wince at the sting of his ignorant words, Lana punched him in the shoulder. She couldn't let how much they had bothered her show. Despite her appearance, thinner and smaller than most her age, she had always had a tough exterior, one which she rarely let people see under.

"Ow! That hurt, Lana!" Ron whined.

"Ignore him, we'll never judge." Hermione said in her gentle, supportive way.

"Erm no, mate, you can trust us," Ron added awkwardly, for once sensing that his earlier question might have been poorly phrased.

"Fine. Well... the thing is... iamdyslexicdontlaugh." she blurted, her words all running together in one long stream.

"Sorry," Ron said, "I didn't quite catch that."

Lana shook her head and calmed herself. Her right hand twirled a strand of her dark, wavy hair subconsciously while her left clutched the worn edge of the wooden table.

"I… I'm dyslexic, okay. And if you laugh, at least do it in private." she said, her words sharp with a bitter edge. She was remembering all the kids, no matter the school, from reception to year six who would laugh at the way she read or spelled. Her cousin had been the loudest when they went to the same school. Although he was dumb as a pig, he could at least not make a fool of himself whenever the teacher asked him to read aloud.

"Why would we laugh at you?" Hermione asked gently, reciprocating the hug Lana had given her earlier.

"Everyone else did. At Muggle school, I mean." she confided. Scenes played out in the back of her mind, all the times she'd been taunted, of her classmates, boys and girls alike, Dudley always heading the pack in the earlier years and during summer, ruthlessly, cruelly mocking the way she stumbled over the written word where no teacher or other adult could hear them.

"What's dyxlesia?" Ron asked, mispronouncing the word in typical wizard fashion. Lana rolled her eyes at his ignorance of Muggle concepts.

"Dyslexia…" Hermione started before finding herself cut off by Lana.

"Is a condition where someone has trouble reading. The letters get all jumbled and it's really hard to focus. Generally, people with dyslexia, like me, have a lot of trouble spelling, reading, and writing.. It's really hard to do anything print related. For me, it'sSS like the letters are floating off the page, doing somersaults, cartwheels, and backflips, taunting me in any way they can, never letting me focus on them. Reading's a bloody headache at the best of times." her tone was detached as if reporting on the weather down in Brighton.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell any of the professors? Oh, I should have seen it before now. Nearly two years of school and I didn't know. I wouldn't have laughed! My mum's dyslexic as well. I'm so sorry, Atalanta. I should have been supporting you, not badgering you to read more, to stop taking your time, to fix your spelling and your penmanship. I'm really really sorry." Hermione cried. She felt awful. She'd always prided herself on being an observant person. But how could she have missed something like this? How could it have not clicked when her mother had once described to her many of the same frustrations Lana had? Perhaps she'd become like all the other magicals, all falling into a trap where they thought Atalanta Rose Potter, Girl-Who-Lived, would be brilliant at everything. Hermione promised herself she'd make it up to Lana somehow.

"It's not your fault. I deliberately hid it from you because, well, all the other kids, at least in Muggle school, made fun of me because I couldn't read well. One of Dudley's favorite things to do whenever he could, really. They'd always imitate me reading aloud in exaggerated voices and the like. I guess I was just afraid of that happening again." Lana sighed. She knew Hermione meant well. She just wanted her friends to do their best.. How could she stay angry at her for that?

"Erm… Lana... I'm really sorry about the not being able to read thing. I didn't know." Ron said, shifting awkwardly. He felt horrible. There he went again, engaging his big mouth before his brain could connect. He felt like the world's biggest prat.

"It's okay, Ron, seriously." Lana said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. She couldn't be too angry at him. He was totally ignorant of Muggle concepts, after all.

"Okay. But still…" he trailed off.

"I know. And since I'm spilling my guts to you anyway, I guess I should continue. The dyslexia isn't helped any because I have ADHD. Before you ask, Ron, that stands for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. People with ADHD have shorter than average attention spans and can't focus on things for long. Sometimes, we tend to miss things that other people might notice. I'm no exception. That's why I never can sit still for long, why I always fidget. And I'm more impulsive. That's common in those like me" Lana shrugged. Ha, 'those like me'. It was funny how she could say that without knowing exactly what she was saying.

"We'll never laugh at you, mate." Ron assured. For all his tactlessness, lack of emotional depth, and jealousy/inferiority issues, he was a good friend who meant well in the end.

"I really wish you'd told us, though." Hermione added.

"Erm yeah, I'm sorry for not telling you guys this. I guess a part of me still thinks that everyone's gonna laugh at me. Hogwarts is the first time I've stayed in a single school for more than a year since reception and year 1. Let's just say I have a track record of pushing my teachers over the edge," Lana allowed herself a rueful grin.

"Like how?" Ron asked eagerly. Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

Well, in year five, we took a trip to the zoo. I kinda found the control panel for the bird enclosures and accidentally on purpose switched the emergency release lever. All the birds, eagles, parrots, the lot, were set loose. It was like something out of that Alfred Hitchcock movie, 'The Birds,' Hermione, except they didn't do much more than unload dung on people as they flew off," Lana smirked at the memory.

"How could you POSSIBLY pull a lever by accident AND on purpose?" Hermione huffed, amused despite herself.

"Easy. I hated seeing all those birds trapped in what was basically a roomy cage. It was an accident because the lever wasn't labeled so I didn't know for sure what it did. But it was on purpose because part of me sort of wanted something like that to happen," Lana flushed slightly at admitting this fact. She didn't know why but seeing all those birds, who were meant to fly free and unrestrained, in those tall, glorified cages had disturbed something deep inside her. It was almost as though her very SOUL resonated with them. Was it because of her virtual imprisonment at the Dursleys and at school? Or was it something else? Lana didn't know nor did she really care.

"Well, mate, I can see why a stunt like that would drive your teachers 'round the bend. What else?" Ron asked with a large, boyish grin.

Hmmm. In year four, I accidentally blew up the chemistry lab in the secondary level wing at the school I was sent to. No comment as to why I was there aside from some end of year, ahem, fun. All I did was turn up the Bunsen burner; I don't know why the flame flared up like it did. In year three, I chucked my lunchbox at a kid's head. It missed and somehow broke the glass of the jellyfish tank at the aquarium we were in. Worst field trip ever. I must have been stung a dozen times. One of the many reasons I hate water. You get the picture. I always got expelled after those incidents." Lana shrugged. She didn't dare tell them about year six, the spring before she started Hogwarts to be exact. All year 6 classes were visiting the Tower of London for a day. Lana, much to her chagrin, got busted for decking Eustace Flemming, a fat, lardy kid reminiscent of her cousin Dudley, who was always shoving people and stealing their food. He'd just taken the apple from this frail kid, Clover or Rover or something, and knocked him over. He tried to shove Lana next, being too dumb to have learned that she wasn't as easy a target as she looked, but she'd knocked him one in the nose. She didn't care that he was the headmaster's grandson. She wouldn't stand for bullying of any sort. And it helped that the gimpy kid who had been picked on previously was a pretty nice kid who didn't deserve Flemming's treatment.

But Mrs. Stonesmith, whose class the three of them were in, thought the dough ball, Flemming, was an angel. Lana hated her. She was a freaky lady who wore flowing white dresses and some sort of white religious wrap or whatever that covered her head and most of her face, along with black sunglasses to cover her eyes. Lana remembered all-too-vividly how she'd pulled her aside, and lead her into the tower. A guard came into the room and told them they weren't supposed to be there without a tour guide. Mrs. Stonesmith lifted her sunglasses and the bloke was immediately statue-fied.

Lana knew enough of Greek mythology, even if she didn't believe it, to realize that looking into her eyes was bad. She lunged for Lana next but the then ten-year-old grabbed her arms. Lana then remembered feeling this buzzing, sizzling sensation and mrs. Stonesmith lit up like a firecracker before exploding in gold dust. Lana recalled next flying back and hitting her head on something.

Next thing she knew, this thin old man was asking Lana if she was all right. When the dazed girl had asked who he was, he reminded her that he was her teacher, Mr. Tanner. It seemed like everyone had forgotten about Mrs. Stonesmith and was certain that Mr. Tanner was their teacher and had been all year. Everyone, that is, except the gimpy kid. But he tried to act like everyone else. He sucked at lying convincingly. But before Lana could confront him, she was being sent back to Little Whinging Potter Detainment Facility AK A #4 Privet Drive. She had been expelled, again, no surprise there. The headmaster, shock shock, didn't take too kindly to her slugging his precious grandson. But on paper, of course, it had been the school board to issue the final order so as not to show the principal's blatant favoritism. Lana knew that Eustace and her cousin, Dudley, would have gotten on splendidly. However, Dudley was attending the local public school as he had always done.

But she hadn't been at the same school as Dudley since waaay back in year one when she'd shoved his pal Peers Polkiss in self-defense and he'd somehow flown ten feet. He hadn't been hurt but the school wouldn't tolerate violence, never mind that Dudley and his thuggish friends had been trying to beat up Lana, as well as succeeding at beating up other kids, for months. Ever since then, her aunt and uncle had sent her to any school they could. At first, in year two and three, she had merely been sent to primary schools further away in Guilford and Woking. But by year four they'd run out of options. From that year on, Lana was sent to whatever crappy government funded schools for troubled kids they could find.

Anyway, one can guess why Lana didn't want to tell her friends about the mysterious Mrs. Stonesmith. She knew she'd sound like a nutter. Even her limited knowledge had made it plane to her that not even a witch or wizard, nor any known sentient magical being, could turn a living thing to literal stone with but a glance. But she didn't have much more time to think about that. She was snapped out of her thoughts by Ron's somewhat awed voice.

"Blimey!" he breathed.

"You're just a magnet for trouble, aren't you?" Hermione said with a fond smile. It was a look like she'd give to an unruly younger sister. Lana grinned at both of them, glad that nothing would change. They were her friends and she was sure nothing could tear them apart.

A few short days later, Lana was at her so-called home and wishing that she was still with her friends. She loathed being stuck in this suburban hell. Every moment she spent within the confines of this house, no, this entire neighborhood, she felt so restricted. Like she was weighed down by invisible chains. It was late, everyone else was asleep. But not Lana. Her window was open as wide as it could go. The smaller than average 12-year-old simply stood in front of it, unseeing, allowing the gentle summer wind to ruffle her hair. Lana had always loved the caress of the wind. She felt a connection to it that she doubted anybody else did. The wind was freedom. It was power. It could be fierce or playful, great and terrible, calm and mild. So many aspects, she often thought to herself, as if each puff and gust of wind was different from the last.

She suddenly found herself being jolted out of her non-thoughts as she saw a shape up in the air. It passed by so quickly that, for a second, she thought she had imagined it. But a scant few seconds later, she felt a great tremor run through the house. Lana grabbed onto the window sill in an attempt to keep her balance. It sounded like something akin to a wrecking ball had just plowed into the front of the house where her relatives slept. Grabbing her wand, she threw on her father's cloak and crept out into the hall. A series of bangs almost toppled her over but she was able to keep her feet. As her eyes took in what she saw she gasped. There was a great hole in the wall which separated the hall from her aunt and uncle's room. Through it, she saw more of the outside than she knew she should have. Then, her eyes settled on something. A large creature, black bodied with taloned paws, a beak, glowing red eyes, and glossy black wings, struck out one of its front limbs at her aunt. Lana stood there, frozen in shock, as the talons tore at her aunt's earlobe to which was attached a golden earring set with a sparkling diamond. It was one of a set, a gift from Vernon on some wedding anniversary when Lana had been much younger. She almost never took them out, not even when sleeping. The talons gouged out skin from Petunia's throat to her temple. But this, as Lana soon took in, was not the only mark on either her aunt or uncle. Each of them had missing chunks of hand, their wedding wings held tightly in another of the thing's talons. Making a sort of growling crow noise in triumph, the creature pushed itself into the air, not noticing, or caring for that matter, how it shoved the king-sized bed containing her aunt and uncle off the edge of the now destroyed bedroom's floor. As she saw her surely dead so-called caregivers all tangled up in bedsheets and quilt, tumble off the ledge Lana jumped into action. She couldn't do anything for them now but she could at least try to keep herself, and Dudley she thought reluctantly, alive. The creature's head turned, sinister eyes zeroing in on her position. Lana gulped. Whatever this was, it could sense her even under the cloak, at least by smell. Taking a fortifying breath, she yanked it off, fastening it around her shoulders to flow down her back.

"Stupefy!" she shouted, pointing her wand at the creature that had surely killed her aunt and uncle. The red spell absorbed itself into the creature's black-furred rump. It stumbled for a moment, one glorious secont where Lana thought her desperate attempt had succeeded. But in the next second, the monster shook its head and pivoted around almost faster than she could comprehend. Cursing, she dodged to the right as it lunged for her, talons outstretched. The thing's eyes glared at her, its fiery gaze bright with fury. It was a horrible sight. Its front was spattered with glistening blood, its talons had bits of skin sticking to them. In one taloned paw was all the gold her aunt and uncle never took off, their wedding rings and Aunt Petunia's diamond earrings.

"Oi!" Lana shouted, "You want some more of that, ugly? Defindo!"

She had been aiming for the juncture where one of its wings met its body. Much like her stunner, the cutting hex had little effect, causing a shallow gouge in its flesh. The creature made another swipe at her. Darting out of the way, she rushed into the guest room directly across the hall and slammed the door.

"Colliportus!" she panted, pointing her wand at the door. Backing up, she sat on the bed to catch her breath. However, she had barely made contact with the bedspread before the wall exploded, or so it seemed. Bits of wood and plaster shot out like shrapnel. Lana screamed and rolled backwards on the bed, tumbling off its left side. She cursed herself; she should have known that a second year locking charm wouldn't keep it out. The creature bore down on her with a ferocity that she had only seen once before with the great serpent below Hogwarts. It made quick work of the bed, leaving it so much kindling and rubbish. Lana was cornered.

"I'm not ready to die!" she thought fiercely, hands splayed protectively in front of her, her right fist clutching her wand in a white-knuckled grip. A feeling rose up inside her. She would later describe it as a whirling storm of power. A fireball, about the size of a basketball, exploded into being, flowing not from her wand like a typical incendio but from her left hand in glorious oranges and yellows with tinges of pure white. With great force, the fireball plowed into the thing's chest. Before Lana could blink, it exploded into a yellow-gold dust. But the fire still remained. Jumping out of her control, it licked at the destroyed bed, leaping to engulf any other furniture it could in a matter of seconds. Coughing and sputtering, her eyes streaming, her hand belatedly smarting terribly from the burnt skin the fire had given her Lana sped out of the destroyed room.

She ran downstairs as quickly as she could, smoke from the raging inferno following in her wake. As she skidded into the living room, another terrible sight met her eyes despite the now thin film of smoke still drifting down from upstairs. Dudley, who had clearly fallen asleep gaming on the big-screen telly as he often did during summer, was sprawled half on the couch and half on the floor. What looked to be half of his right arm had been torn off, his chest crushed, a trickle of blood at the corners of his mouth. Lana vaguely recalled that the missing limb had once held the outrageously fancy gold Rolex watch which Dudley had received for his recent thirteenth birthday. The television, once nestled in the wooden entertainment center, now lay on the floor sparking dangerously along with the DVD player and the Playstation 3, WII, and Xbox 360 Dudley had also just gotten for his birthday.

Lana jumped at another bang from the vicinity of the kitchen. Running on pure adrenalin and impulse now, she hurried in that direction. There was another creature, bigger than the last one. It had torn up the entire room and had piled all the Dursley family's best silver into one corner. Lana noticed, to her mute horror, that Dudley's dismembered arm lay in the opposite corner without its timepiece. In a most chilling parody, her eyes latched onto the device which was now around the monster's right front leg. Its gaze was focused on all the shiny things it had collected, admiring each piece. But as it saw her, the creature changed targets.

A firestorm of emotions roared through Lana at that moment. This thing was destroying everything, well, not dear but still. Her family, though they didn't act as such, were gone now, dead.

"Where are your bloody protections eh, Dumbledore?" she screamed in the throbbing temples of her own mind. They hadn't loved her, nor had she them. But they had taken her, protected her. She intensely disliked them, maybe even hated them. But never, ever, did she want them killed except perhaps in the darkest corners of her mind.

Lana's frenzied memories flashed her earlier childish dreams that they would just go away somehow. But that was before she had been old enough to understand death. She now regretted, if slightly, the fleeting wishes from her later childhood, imagined in hours of dark cupboard solitude when she was on breaks from school, that they might die in a car crash themselves. Perhaps Vernon would even be drunk. It would be exactly like they had said her parents died. She figured it might be justice once upon a time. But despite her darker thoughts towards them, she never had imagined they would actually die of anything but heart attacks or old age, especially not like this.

The murderous thing was looking at her again with its bloody eyes, ready to pounce. But that zingy, buzzy feeling rose up in Lana. The one she'd felt when Mrs. Stonesmith had attacked her. Thinking back on it, it had also been there a year ago when Quirrellmort had tried to touch her.

Whatever this feeling was, she let it fill her, embracing it as not only a friend but an ally born of hard-won battles. Wand carelessly shoved into a pocket, cloak draped over her shoulders as it had been since near the beginning of this nightmare, Lana let loose with a furious, roaring cry full of many emotions she would, later, be hard-pressed to put words to. She lunged, hands out, the feeling erupting from her fingertips. Her small hands tried valiantly to reach around the killer monster's glossy, feathered neck. The last thing she saw before her world went black was an explosion of gold surrounded by a halo of blue-white light. As all awareness left her, Atalanta Rose Potter felt a thrill of satisfaction that, yet again, she had faught and won. Some primal part of her knew that this would be far from the last time she would fight. She hoped her luck would hold.


End file.
